19th Sunday
Ordinary Time – A
Matthew 14:22-33
First reading – 1 Kings 19:9,11-13
The Lord was not in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire
Second reading – Romans 9:1-5
I would willingly be condemned if it could help my brothers
Gospel – Matthew 14:22-33
Jesus walks on the water
Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he would send the crowds away. After sending the crowds away he went up into the hills by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, while the boat, by now far out on the lake, was battling with a heavy sea, for there was a head-wind. In the fourth watch of the night he went towards them, walking on the lake, and when the disciples saw him walking on the lake they were terrified. ‘It is a ghost’ they said, and cried out in fear. But at once Jesus called out to them, saying, ‘Courage! It is I! Do not be afraid.’ It was Peter who answered. ‘Lord,’ he said ‘if it is you, tell me to come to you across the water.’ ‘Come’ said Jesus. Then Peter got out of the boat and started walking towards Jesus across the water, but as soon as he felt the force of the wind, he took fright and began to sink. ‘Lord! Save me!’ he cried. Jesus put out his hand at once and held him. ‘Man of little faith,’ he said ‘why did you doubt?’ And as they got into the boat the wind dropped. The men in the boat bowed down before him and said, ‘Truly, you are the Son of God.’
Today’s Gospel directly follows last week’s account of Jesus feeding a crowd of more than 5,000 people with just five loaves of bread and two fish. For the sake of the crowds, Jesus had postponed his time of solitude. Now, at last, Jesus finds some time for quiet and prayer. He sends his disciples ahead of him by boat, dismisses the crowds, and then withdraws to the mountain to pray.
The disciples do not fare well. They struggle to weather the wind and waves, making little progress in their journey. We are reminded of a previous story in Chapter 8 of Matthew’s Gospel, when Jesus calms the seas. This time, however, Jesus does not calm the seas, and the disciples do not express fear until they see Jesus walking toward them on the water. In this story it is not the storm that is feared but the sight of Jesus before them, whom they mistake for a ghost.
Clues like these suggest that this story is about the disciples’ growing understanding of the identity of Jesus. In continuity with last week’s Gospel about the feeding of the multitude, today’s Gospel is also about what the disciples’ faith in Jesus will enable them to do. In last week’s Gospel, when the disciples see the crowds, they ask Jesus to send the crowds away. Jesus turns the situation around, telling the disciples to feed the crowd with the provisions that they have. Both of these Gospels tell us much about ministry.
Jesus calls to the disciples and calms their fears. He is not a ghost. The impulsive Peter seeks proof that the person is indeed Jesus. He asks Jesus to call him out onto the water, and Jesus grants this request. Peter’s fear and doubt overtake him, however, once he is walking on the water. Jesus reaches out to Peter and saves him. When Jesus and Peter enter the boat, Matthew reports that the wind ceases, and the disciples confess that Jesus is the Son of God.
Faith in Jesus will enable the disciples to do the work that Jesus has done. Peter walks on water. The five loaves and two fish feed a multitude of people. The disciples can and will participate in the work of the kingdom of heaven. When Peter fears and doubts the person of Jesus, however, he falters. Peter’s example teaches us that true Christian ministry emerges from the faith that Jesus is the Messiah, God’s only Son.
BEFORE WE SINK
José Antonio Pagola
It’s surprising the significance that the story of the storm on the lake of Galilee has taken on in these times of religious crisis. Matthew describes the situation in clear terms: Jesus’ disciples are alone, «far from solid land», in the middle of the insecurity of the sea; the boat is «tossed about by the waves», overcome by adverse forces, «headwinds», everything going against them; it’s «pitch black”, the darkness keeps them from seeing the horizon.
Thus are living quite a few believers at this moment. There’s no security or religious certainty; everything has become obscure and doubtful. Religion is subjected to all kinds of accusations and suspicions. There’s talk of Christianity as a «terminal religion» that belongs to the past, they say that we are entering a «post-Christian era» (E. Poulat). In some people the question arises: isn’t religion an unreal dream, an ingenious myth called on to disappear? This is the disciples’ cry when they make out Jesus in the midst of the storm: «It’s a ghost».
Jesus’ reaction is immediate: «Courage! It’s me! Don’t be afraid». Strengthened by these words, Peter makes Jesus an outrageous request: «Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you across the water». He doesn’t know if Jesus is a ghost or something real, but he wants to prove that he can walk toward him, walking not on solid ground, but on the water, no
being supported by safe arguments, but in the weakness of faith.
Thus a believer lives out her attachment to Christ in moments of crisis and darkness. We don’t know if Christ is a ghost or something alive and real, raised by the Father for our salvation. We don’t have scientific arguments to prove it, but we know by experience that one can walk through life sustained by faith in him and in his word.
It’s not easy to live from this naked faith. The Gospel story tells us that Peter «notices the wind», «takes fright» and «begins to sink». It’s a well-known process: notice only the power of evil, let ourselves be paralyzed by fear, and sink into hopelessness.
Peter reacts, and before going completely under, cries out: «Lord, save me!». Faith is often a cry, a plea, a call to God: «Lord, save me!». Without knowing how or why, it’s possible at that moment to perceive Christ as a hand stretched out to sustain our faith and save us, saying just then: «You have so little faith, why did you doubt?».
José Antonio Pagola
Translator: Fr. Jay VonHandorf
https://www.gruposdejesus.com
TAKE HEART, IT IS I
Pope Francis
This Sunday’s Gospel passage (see Mt 14:22-33) speaks of Jesus walking on the water of the stormy lake. After feeding the crowds with five loaves and two fish – as we saw last Sunday – Jesus commands the disciples to get into the boat and return to the other shore. He dismisses the people and then climbs the hill, alone, to pray. He immerses Himself in communion with the Father.
During the crossing of the lake by night, the disciples’ boat is hindered by a sudden wind storm. This is normal on a lake. At a certain point, they see someone walking on the water, coming toward them. Upset, they think it is a ghost and cry out in fear. Jesus reassures them: “Take heart, it is I; have no fear”. Then Peter – Peter who was so decisive – answers: “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water”. A challenge. And Jesus tells him: “Come”. Peter gets out of the boat and takes a few steps; then the wind and waves frighten him and he begins to sink. “Lord, save me”, he cries, and Jesus grasps him by the hand and says to him: “O man of little faith, why did you doubt?”.
This Gospel narrative is an invitation to abandon ourselves trustingly to God in every moment of our life, especially in the moment of trial and turmoil. When we have strong feelings of doubt and fear and we seem to be sinking, in life’s difficult moments where everything becomes dark, we must not be ashamed to cry out like Peter: “Lord, save me” (v. 30). To knock on God’s heart, on Jesus’s heart. “Lord, save me.” It is a beautiful prayer! We can repeat it many times. “Lord, save me.” And Jesus’s gesture, who immediately reaches out His hand and grasps that of His friend, should be contemplated at length: this is Jesus. Jesus does this. Jesus is the Father’s hand who never abandons us, the strong and faithful hand of the Father, who always and only wants what is good for us. God is not in the loud sound, God is not the hurricane, He is not in the fire, He is not in the earthquake – as the narrative about the Prophet Elijah also recalls today that says God is the light breeze – literally it says this: He is in the “ thread of melodious silence” – that never imposes itself, but asks to be heard (see 1 Kgs 19:11-13). Having faith means keeping your heart turned to God, to His love, to His Fatherly tenderness, amid the storm. Jesus wanted to teach this to Peter and the disciples, and also to us today. In dark moments, in sad moments He is well aware that our faith is weak –all of us are people of little faith, all of us, myself included, everyone – and that our faith is weak our journey can be troubled, hindered by adverse forces. But He is the Risen One! Let’s not forget this: He is the Lord who passed through death in order to lead us to safety. Even before we begin to seek Him, He is present beside us lifting us back up after our falls, He helps us grow in faith. Maybe in the dark, we cry out: “Lord, Lord!” thinking He is far away. And He says, “I am here.” Ah, He was with me! That is the Lord.
The boat at the mercy of the storm is the image of the Church, which in every age encounters
headwinds, very harsh trials at times: we recall certain long and ferocious persecutions of the last century and even today in certain places. In situations like that, she may be tempted to think that God has abandoned her. But in reality it is precisely in those moments that the witness of faith, the witness of love, the witness of hope shines the most. It is the presence of the Risen Christ in His Church that gives the grace of witness unto martyrdom, from which buds new Christians and fruit of reconciliation and peace for the entire world.
May the intercession of Mary help us to persevere in faith and fraternal love when the darkness and storms of life place our trust in God in crisis.
Pope Francis
Angelus 9th August 2020
FAITH MATURES IN MOMENTS OF CRISIS
Fernando Armellini
Introduction
Church and broader society relationships have always been accompanied by tension, conflict and misunderstanding. These are highlighted even more starkly with the coming of empiricism and rationalism that characterized the thinking of the 17th and 18th centuries. The purely naturalistic worldview and the unconditional trust in reason seemed to haveundermined the very foundations of the faith and the supernatural. The historical and archaeological research of the 19th century showed the apparent inconsistencies in the traditional interpretation of the Bible.
Dictated by suspicion and fear, the response of believers was not immediately serene.The purification movement of ideas, language, and religious practices suffered delay, setback, rethinking and involution. Today it is possible to highlight the significant changesstimulated by the secular challenges. They came up, especially after the Second Vatican Council. From the study and meditation of the Word of God, an image of the divine no longer imprisoned in archaic categories, but with a new human face, a more evangelical Church and the proposal of a society based on authentic values is emerging and being delivered to the world, even amid contradiction.
Something similar already happened in the days of the prophet Elijah, as the First Reading will tell. Jesus asked his disciples for a greater change in mentality than indicated in the Gospel passage. The path of conversion is not yet fully revealed. The Spirit is inviting Christians to project their insight, minds and hearts beyond the narrow horizons within which fear can hold them prisoner and interpret the signs of the times, despite the criticism of non-believers.
First Reading: 1 Kings 19:9a, 11-13a
At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter. Then the Lord said to him, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the Lord;the Lord will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord—but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire—but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.
We are in the first half of the ninth century B.C. Omri, a skillful and resolute general, has just taken power in an uprising. The Book of Kings gives him scant recognition—only six verses (1 K 16:23-28)—but the political, social, and mainly religious upheavals which occurred during the11 years of his reign profoundly marked the history of Israel. He built a new capital on the mountain of Samaria, introduced new agricultural techniques, boostedtrade, supported cultural development, and strengthened the army. In a short time, he managed to make Israel a rich and powerful nation.
To consolidate alliances with neighboring kingdoms, he arranged a few marriages. Of these, one had dramatic consequences: the one between Ahab’s son and the intriguing, ambitious and charming, but wicked Jezebel, the daughter of Ethbaal, king of Tyre.
It was the beginning of apostasy from the Lord because the bewitching foreign princess immediately insisted that Baal and Asherah, the divinities of her land, be worshiped in Israel. For them, she had a magnificent temple built in Samaria and imposedtheir cult as the kingdom’s official religion.
In this period of tension, “the prophet Elijah came like a fire; his words a burning torch” (Sir 48:1). He came from Gilead, the land beyond the Jordan, on the borders of the desert, “wore a mantle fur with a leather belt around his waist” (2 K 1:8) and led anaustere life. He quickly averted to the “colonization” of the minds and consciences carried out by the queen. He intervened to denounce the danger of religious and moral corruption. Despite his effort and courage, he could not convince the people to remain faithful to the Lord. At the height of desperation, one day, he vents his anger at his God: “The Israelites have forsaken your covenant. No one is left but myself, yet they still seek my life to take it away” (1 K 19:14).
It is at this point that our reading starts. To escape Jezebel, who wants to kill him, Elijah flees. He chooses the way of the wilderness and goes to the mountain of God, Horeb, the Sinai, where 400 years before, Moses had spoken to the Lord. Upon arrival, he enters a cave to spend the night. Behold, the Lord invites him to go out and to wait for asign.
Here a great and strong wind blew up and split the rocks. Then after the wind, there was an earthquake and a fire (vv. 11-12). According to the prophet, these were the unmistakable signs of the passage of the Lord. It was amid these impressive phenomena that God had always presented himself to his faithful servants in the past. He presented himself to Moses in the fire, between lightning and thunder, while the mountain shook to its foundation (Ex 19:16-19). Baal, the god of Jezebel, also appeared in the storm and the hurricane. He rode the clouds, hurled thunderbolts, and hovered in the wind. Elijahremained surprised that the Lord was not in the mighty wind, earthquake, or fire.
“After the fire, there was a murmur of a gentle breeze” (v. 12). As Elijah heard it, he covered his face with his cloak. He understood that it was the moment that the Lord passed. God revealed himself in a whole new way. The translation of v. 12 should be corrected. The original Hebrew text does not speak of ‘light wind,’ but a voice of gentle silence heard by the prophet. It was in silence that Elijah captured the revelation of the Lord. It was a leap forward in his journey of faith. The God of whom he had hithertofirmly believed still had the archaic traits of pagan deities. He was strong, tremendous, and always ready to show his strength against the enemy. He was the one who on Mount Carmel confronted Baal and won (1 K 18:20-24). Now, Elijah understood; it was not the Lord who had prompted him to cut the throats of the prophets of Baal at the brook Kishon, but the false image he had of God.
In the ‘voice of gentle silence,’ he had come to discover the true face of his God. He realized that his ‘zeal for the Lord’ was none other than fanaticism. He realized that the conviction of ‘being left alone’ to worship the Lord arose from dogmatic intolerance. In Israel, seven thousand men had not bent their knees to Baal, but Elijah had not noticed (1 K 19:18). “Come on! —says the Lord—take the road back” (1 K 19:15), inwardlytransformed by the ‘voice of gentle silence’ that he has heard.
The spiritual experience of Elijah can be repeated by anyone who knows how to keepan interior silence by silencing the misleading voices that have inculcated a false image ofGod. In a calm reflection on the Bible and the Gospel, he lets himself be flooded by the true light, the light that shines on the face of Christ.
Second Reading: Romans 9:1-5
Brothers and sisters: I speak the truth in Christ, I do not lie; my conscience joins with the Holy Spirit in bearing me witness that I have great sorrow and constant anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh. They are Israelites; theirs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; theirs the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.
The wise Ecclesiastes said: “For the wiser you are, the more worries you have” (Ecl1:18). We might comment: the more we love the more pain. The thought of a son, a brotheror a sister making foolish choices and ruining their lives deeply saddens us. They accompany us all the time as an obsession. The moments of joy are also shrouded with bitterness and melancholy.
We are not resigned to the fact that these loved ones let go of a happiness they could easily grasp. We love the Church, and we would like her as dreamed of by her Spouse: pure as “the rose of Sharon, like a lily of the valleys” (Song 2:1). Instead, we see her at times, hesitantly and less evangelically colluding or in oblivious connivance with the powers of this world. What should those who suffer for love do? Nothing except continue loving and waiting, with the patience of God, praying that the seed of the Gospel will accomplish the miracle of the conversion of hearts.
The example of Paul is enlightening. He felt the tragedy of the rejection of Christ by his people deeply. He took the salvation of Israel to heart. He said, using a paradox, that he would willingly be excommunicated and cut off from Christ if this would serve to recoverhis people (v. 3). His heartfelt words are reminiscent of Moses’ intercession, “And now please forgive their sin… if not, blot me out of the book you have written” (Ex 32:32).
Paul could not understand that the chosen people, the children of Abraham, the heirs of the promises made to the patriarchs, had rejected the Messiah of God (vv. 1-2) when he wrote to the Romans nearly 30 years after the death and resurrection of Jesus. During this time, he tried in every way to announce Christ to his Israelite brothers and sisters withoutreward, indeed, against much opposition.
In the last two verses (vv. 5-6), the privileges that Israel has received from God are listed; the previous, the most important of all, is the fact that Christ is the son of this people. Despite the present sadness, there is a thought that comforts the apostle: the promises of God are irrevocable, and if he has allowed the hardening of Israel’s heart if he has “submitted all to disobedience, it is to show his mercy to all” (Rom 11:29,32). The thought must console whoever suffers for love: the story of every person, however, will end with salvation.
Gospel: Matthew 14:22-33
“Get up and eat, for the journey is too long for you,” the angel of the Lord said to Elijah fleeing into the wilderness. “The prophet stood up, ate and drank and on the force of that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God” (1K 19:7-8).
To this famous story of the gift of bread and water by the angel to Elijah, the revelation of the Lord narrated in the First Reading followed.
In the Gospel passage, the scene is repeated. The disciples, nourished with the bread offered by Jesus (Mt 14:13-20), now receive the order to get moving, to get into the boat to the other side. Like Elijah, a revelation of the Lord awaits them.
There are several strange details in this episode. It’s not easy to find a reason for the order given by Jesus. Why does he let them go by themselves? Where must they go at this hour? Why doesn’t he go with them? Why does it take them too long to cross the lake? I do not think it’s because of the bad weather that he calmly goes up the mountain to pray and stay there until towards morning (v. 25). The claim of Peter to walk on the water is especially striking and—in the case of a proven swimmer—his fear of drowning (Jn 21:7).
These unique details make the exegete suspicious. They are an invitation to approach the passage with caution because it is not the story of a miracle, but a page of theology written with biblical images.
Some of these images are well known. The darkness of the night, first of all, is present, with its charge of negative meanings, in a number of Old Testament texts. Recall, for example, the psalmist who, on the night of his pain cries out to God without finding rest (Ps 22:3). It is with this darkness that the disciples are to confront themselves. When evening came, Jesus “forces them” (this is the verb used in the original text) to get into the boat and head to the “other side.” One gets the impression that they are reluctant and that they would like to stay next to the Master. However he, after having fed them with his bread, wants them to leave, to undertake the dangerous journey alone. The food he gave them is his Word and his own person present in the sacrament of the Eucharist. Nourished by this dual bread, they have the necessary strength to accomplish the difficult crossing.
If Jesus was visibly present on the boat, the darkness would disappear; instead, the darkness is thick.
When evening came (v. 13) indicates, in the symbolic language of the evangelist, the conclusion of Jesus’ day. It is the end of his life. It is the moment in which he “climbs the mountain” alone, moves away from the crowds and definitely enters the world of God. This is why the disciples find themselves in the dark. Darkness is the image of disorientation, doubt that captures even the most convinced believer. At times, even one who is driven by a strong faith feels alone. He undergoes the harrowing experience of God’s silence and wonders if his choices, his sacrifices, his commitment to the good have a sense.
Then there is the headwind. The Israelites have had the experience of the “mighty wind unleashed over the desert” that strikes and brings down the house (Job 1:19). They know the “east wind that shatters the ships”(Ps 48:8) and the “tempestuous wind” which whips up the waves, shakes ships plunging them to the depths, reeling like drunkards, in spite of all their seamanship (Ps 107:26-27).
The author of the Letter to the Ephesians employs this image to describe the senseless reasoning of people, the mentality of this world opposite to that of Christ. To the Christians of his communities Paul recalls: “Then no longer shall we be like children tossed about by any wave or wind of doctrine and deceived by the cunning of people” (Eph 4:14).
The waters were, in the Old Testament, images to describe the forces that lead to death. The psalmist, afflicted by a serious illness that is leading him to the grave, cries out to the Lord: “From above, reach down and draw me out of the deep waters” (Ps 144:7); another, having been healed, says: “A deadly flood surrounded me, devilish torrents rushed at me … Reaching down from above, he drew me out of the deep waters” (Ps 18:5,17). The Lord promises to his people: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, the rivers will not sweep over you” (Is 43:2).
The Israelites were always afraid of waters. They said, only the Lord is not afraid of whirlwinds and storms.He who, by his word, separated the “waters below and the waters above it” (Gen 1:7). He alone can “hush the billows to silent waves” (Ps 107:25-30); and he is the only one who “treads on the waves of the sea” (Job 9:8).
If one keeps in mind this symbolism, he understands the fear of the disciples. They fear of being overwhelmed by the forces of evil and death. They are in the dark and do not perceive the Master next to them. A dramatic situation, but inevitable, and they have to face it.
The boat was tossed about by the waves. The original text uses here the Greek verb basanizo which properly means “to put to the test.” The basanos was the hard stone used in Lydia in order to verify, through a violent friction, if a metal was valuable or worthless.
The waves torment almost torture the disciples, but they are the necessary tests they have to undergo if they want to get out of it maturely.
Towards the end of the night, Jesus appears, walking on the waves of the sea, as only God was capable of doing (Job 9:8). The disciples do not recognize him. They believe of having something to do with a ghost. Their reaction is really strange. What happened? Why can’t they recognize him?
We are not confronting a factual written account but a page of theology. Matthew is describing, with the biblical language, the situation of the Christian communities of his time. They were “tormented” by many trials, distressed by doubts and above all disoriented by the fact of not having the Master visibly with them, who would have infused safety and courage in them.
The evangelist wants to enlighten them. Jesus is always close to his disciples, even to the end of the world,as he has promised (Mt 28:20), but not physically, as when he walked the roads of Palestine. He is present in a different way, as a ghost. This is the pale image used in the Gospels to describe the Risen Lord and his new condition of life. When, on the day of Easter, he appears in the midst of the disciples gathered together, “in their panic and fright, they thought they were seeing a ghost” (Lk 24:37).
It’s not easy to be aware of his presence. He becomes recognizable only with the eyes of faith.
The second part of the passage (vv. 28-33) contains the dialogue between Jesus and Peter. It starts with the request of the apostle: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (v. 28). His question is odd, but only for one who takes it in a literal sense. If it is understood in the symbolic context of the whole story, then the meaning immediately comes out clear. Peter, the first of the disciples, beholds the Master—The Risen One—who crossed the waters of death, now walking on the sea, is in God’s world. Peter knows he is called to follow him in the gift of life, but death scares him. He fears of not succeeding and asks the Lord to give him strength.
As long as he keeps his eyes fixed on the Master, he is able to go to him. When his faith diminishes, when he begins to doubt the choice he made, he sinks and is afraid of being overwhelmed, of losing his life.
It is the description of our condition. “Come to me now—the Risen Lord repeats to every disciple. Do not be afraid of losing your life. If you hesitate, death will make you afraid. If you trust my word, the waters of death will not scare you, and you will cross over and catch up with me in the resurrection.”
READ: Jesus reaches out to the disciples in trouble, walking up to them on the water. Those in the boat bowed down before Jesus saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
REFLECT: Jesus asks Peter, “Why did you doubt?” Jesus challenges the sudden loss of faith of Peter in the midst of turbulence. What would God be asking us when we meet Him face- to-face?
PRAY: Let us ask God to probe our innermost being and lead us to conversion.
ACT: Today is a good day to make a confession of faith regarding who Jesus is for me. I will take some time and proclaim with my whole being that Jesus is my Lord and Savior.
Fernando Armellini
Italian missionary and biblical scholar
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com
